MOST YEARS YOU ONLY GET TO CELEBRATE 420. THIS YEAR IT’S 2420.
How odd is it that the people who like to think of themselves as patriotic or religious are violating quarantine lockdown orders without regard to the public good or the lives of the old and infirm?
How odd is it that ordinary deadbeat stoners staying home and getting high are contributing more to public safety than all these other idiots?
For years I knew April 2020 was going to be wild and crazy, but this shit is fucked up in ways I could have never imagined:
A reality-TV star President with dementia attacking reporters and boasting about what a good job he is doing in what is supposed to be a daily briefing about an unprecedented worldwide crisis.
A man who cannot open his mouth without lying or boasting or name calling or sounding like a spoiled vindictive child. Endless petty squabbles. Endlessly describing people as geniuses and then idiots when they disagree with him.
And to top it off: There are still stupid motherfuckers out there saying he is doing a good job.
“Pray for Bigfoot. Don’t let him explode like Jesus.”
That’s the central belief of New and Improved Mormonism.
You have to understand that New and Improved Mormons (NIMs) are just like other Christians in that they believe in Jesus Christ as the divine son of God and the savior of all mankind and that he was resurrected and all that.
The difference is that NIMs also believe that the sins of the world became so great that Jesus exploded from the overload, and Bigfoot had to take over. They call that tragic event the Divine Sasquatchination and believe that it happened around the time of Donald Trump’s third medical deferment from military service during the Viet Nam war.
Do you remember that time you and Mr. Grunch were assigned to the safety committee, and he wanted to have daily meetings about the safety flyers when it was obvious that all you needed to do was take last year’s flyers and add the new stuff to the bottom?
Remember that time at team-building day, when Mr. Grunch argued about the score keeping for the field events and how kickball should be weighted more and got mad about it?
Do you remember the time Mr. Grunch forgot about his leftover tuna salad in the break room fridge for three weeks, and when he finally remembered it, the stuff smelled like a dead whale’s sulfurous bowels, but he didn’t notice that he was letting it drip on the carpet as he carried it by your cubicle?
Do you remember the time you and your work buddy were talking about her divorce and some very private sexual details, and you both started talking about everything you had ever tried, but then you noticed that Mr. Grunch was sitting right there on the other side of the partition?